The Beginning of the end
by muskiet-splat
Summary: Originally written after HBP. How Harry came to accept that he must hunt the Horcruxes to beat Voldemort. My Prologue to Book 7. Rewrite of Own Destiny.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

Gee, thats easy. Well, read on...

* * *

Was this what it felt like to be an adult? To know that something depended on you and no matter how you may do it or how you feel, it has to be done.

It was raining. Harry saw the droplets slide slowly down the slanted car windows. What he wouldn't give to get on with it. He knew what he was supposed to do and staying idle made him panic.

Dudley was playing games on his game boy and Aunt Petunia was complaining about the neighbours again. His uncle however kept throwing him pointed stares, as if Harry was going to spontaneously combust any moment and ruin his new car's seat.

Some things never change…

Home sweet home Harry thought as he walked into the Dursleys unthinkable clean living room. Harry went up the stairs massaging his acing forehead, followed by Vernon's instructions to never leave the house and stay out of sight for the whole holiday and he will find his food on the kitchen table each night.

After that his uncle just rambled on about freaks in his house and having to take care of other people's children because they weren't able to do it themselves and decided to die and leave responsibility to other hard working folks like themselves, the same as usual, with just some added turns here and there. He dumped his trunk at the end of his bed and lay down.

That was his plan, to go after the Horcruxes and Voldemort alone. The problem was finding a place to start.

Was that what it meant to be grown up? Knowing where to start and knowing what to do. Dumbledore always knew what to do. Always knew what was happening and always knew what to do about it. When his headmaster was around, you had that feeling of security inside that made you feel safe. Dumbledore would save you…

Though there was no more Dumbledore…

He was dead, Voldemort made sure of that. And he would pay.

That was the rough draft of his plan: Kill Voldemort. To do that he needed no find the Horcruxes

* * *

Harry's eyes where drawn immediately to a golden glint on his wall. The sun was rising over Little Winging. It had been a long night…

He had been thinking a lot. Hoping that thinking would help him understand the task that lay ahead. Instead it just made him doubt it all again.

_There is no room for doubt_

Harry rolled off of his bed and stretched. The sun was pouring into his room, and the sounds of other people getting on with their lives outside filled his ears, cars roling by and kids laughing in the park It was too perfect a summers day to spend in his room.

His room.

That was odd. It was odd thinking about things like that when seven years ago he lived in a cupboard. It seemed like such a long time. So much had happened in that time. So many people had waltzed into his life and so many had left it. He had changed so much…

His goals had changed so much.

_Change is the only constant thing in life…_

With a sad smile Harry closed the door of his room and walked down the deserted hall of the house. He could still hear his Uncle's snoring coming from their bedroom…

The kitchen was cold and clean, not yet touched by the sun's paint. He had had so many memories in this kitchen. This entire house held so much of his childhood. Even though it was never really all good, it still had that familiarity about it. It all seemed so safe…

Nothing was safe anymore. It was all the past and belonged there. This was the future and it depended upon him… no not on him, on the boy-who-lived, on the cursed scar on his forehead.

But first he needed to be better, he needed to know more, learn more spells and he needed to get fit, he didn't want to die. He would never give Voldemort that satisfaction.

The door opened. Harry jumped up out of shock and reached automatically for his wand. His grip relaxed on it however when he realised that it had been Dudley.

"Hey Big D." Harry said looking up at the boy.

Dudley was now the ideal boxer, in height and in muscle. Even though Harry would never admit it, that is how he wanted to look. He wouldn't really want the pig-like features…but that healthy fit look that Dudley portrayed was appealing. If Harry had to choose who would be most likely to kill a dark lord, he would defiantly go for Dudley because the guys' fists looked as if they could inflict some serious damage…

He really needed to buff up…

Dudley turned his red eyes towards him and grunted, "What do you want?" He stumbled over to the fridge and jerked open the door. "Is dad letting you out of the room? I thought he would lock you in."

Harry raised his eyebrow as Dudley pulled out of the fridge with a bottle of ice cold water which he started drinking gradually. His cousin sat down in the chair opposite him bouncing the bottle back and forth between hands.

There was an awkward silence. Harry wanted to get up and leave but for some odd reason he was glued to his seat waiting…

"Harry." Dudley said in a tired voice, "You know last time when that crackpot old man came to our house…"

"Dumbledore," Harry answered solemnly.

"Yeah him…he said that mum and dad inflicted damage on m…" Dudley let the sentence hang in the air. "nah, never mind."

Harry said nothing as his cousin stood up and left the kitchen treading noisily up the stairs towards his room. Harry could guess where the boy was all night. Most probably out with his gang at some party or another.

_Yeah dud, I think Dumbledore knew what he was talking about._

He would stay here for as long as he needed to. He would need to get something to keep him busy in his room for the next few weeks. He promised Dumbledore he would not leave there until his seventeenth birthday, and he would try to keep that promise. But if they start something he might consider leaving for a while.

He sat back in his chair. The house was silent again as Dudley seemed to find his bed. He would never come back here again. He would never see his room again, nor his family. He would never come back.

It made him feel at lost.

Sure he might have hated growing up here. But he had grown up here after all.

* * *

It was dark, he decided, dark enough to get out, and the Dursley's were all asleep. Harry stood up, and walked stealthily across the floor, he stopped at the door to check if he could hear Vernon snoring. There it was and he could swear it sounded louder than Fluffy's…

It was the first of August. It was time for the big change.

Harry slipped his wand out of his jean pocket and picked up his backpack. The front door swung open and he was out into the cool early morning air.

He walked down the street as quickly as he could. Not caring that the front door was still open. And not bothered by the fact that the most of his belongings where still hidden in his room. He was out. It was starting…

He walked until he reached the end of the street and stopped turning back for one last glance. He would miss the old place. He would miss the identical houses and the perfectly manicured lawns. He would miss it all…

The moon sailed behind a cloud and when it remerged, Harry Potter was gone.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron wasn't very busy, there was just a few people scattered around the pub some looking pretty shady and others nearly asleep in their chairs. Harry sat down at a table in the corner. Looking at the man slumped over the bar table, how can someone actually get that drunk he wondered. Tom came and asked him if he wanted something. Harry replied that he would like a meal and a room. Tom was never one to ask a lot of questions and complied, room 11 was open; Harry could have it for the night.

Just after Tom left the man sitting closest to Harry stood up and went away, which was probably good as he looked almost as bad as the guy at the bar, leaving that day's edition of the Daily Prophet on the table. Harry needed to know what was going on in the wizarding world and took the paper.

To his surprise there was a whole section of the paper on Voldemort and his latest attacks, also the latest death count. The count stood on 495. The Death Eater raids were small, but came up regularly, there isn't a day gone buy that at least 7 towns are attacked. It looked as if they had a hit and run strategy, hitting quick and running away even faster. The raids ran all over Britton, and seldom lasted more than 40 minutes. Muggle towns were mostly attacked although the magic community was not left out of the action. Lastly Voldemort didn't kill the people, he just tortured them, children, parents, and families so many lives changed or nearly destroyed forever!

What was Voldemort playing at? What was he waiting for? What was he doing, for that matter! The attacks are nothing like what he used to do, the death count stood basically at nil considering his past reins numbers, really the guy has gone mad. Madder than he used to be anyhow.

After Harry ate his dinner, it tasted a lot better than any of the food he would have gotten at the Dursleys. The steak, roasted potato, vegetables and pumpkin juice were almost as good as Hogwarts's. He went to his room, his trunk was already there. Harry changed into pyjamas and climbed into bed, hoping for a good nights rest. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day if he wanted to get ready for what lay ahead.

Harry woke up early the next morning and couldn't quite place where he was, or why he was there. He rubbed his eyes and it all came back to him.

* * *

The room was dusty and old; there where spiders dancing in the corners on their stages of cobwebs. Harry had been here before however…he remembered it well.

A warm smile touched his face as he thought about his first time in Diagon Alley. It was magical…

Harry went to Gringots first to fill up his moneybag, and exchange some galleons for muggle money, pounds to use in London. The white building stood out like a glittering diamond in the early morning sun. Though it was lonely in the abandoned streets.

Where were the people? Where were the laughing children and the mad old ladies trying to sell of second hand love potion? Where was the magical atmosphere? What had happened to Diagon Alley?

_The war…_

Harry walked down the abandoned road passing a person here and there. Most of the shops where closed, the rest where boarded up and emptied. He had hoped of buying another wand but realised too late that Olivander was gone. Diagon Alley seemed pointless at the moment.

It felt really odd walking into muggle London. He stood back at the pub entrance watching the people flow past him all on their way to work or hurrying off to breakfast.

This was it. He was going there. He was going to Godrics Hollow where it all started… Where Dumbledore told him he would need to start looking. He was going to the beginning.

He packed the stuff he took out the previous night back into his bag, and paused when he picked up his photo album before zipping up his bag.. He stood up and walked down the stairs, album in hand. When he reached the door to Muggle London he stopped and looked again at the picture of his parents laughing. They stood in a room that he imagined was their kitchen. He realised that it probably didn't look that way anymore. That it was probably all in ruins…however he needed something to apparate to.

His hands let go of the door frame and Harry Potter fell into the stream of people who where running about their business, not knowing that the beginning of the end had just begun.

* * *

The beginning of the end, an interesting sentence. But what does it really mean? What does it mean to begin the end? That question is not so hard when the answer is Voldemort. The hard part is how.

* * *

Harry walked down the street, wondering how Gordics hollow would look like. People brushed against him in a big hurry, late for a business meeting or to pick up their children from school, or some unimportant reason. Saving the world was a reason to be in a hurry, yet Harry wasn't. He was lost in thought. Trying to get a picture of Gordics hollow brought up some memories, not real ones, just the photos in his album.

A smiling Serius holding a baby Harry…

Lily kissing and hugging James lovingly…

It would have been so different… but it isn't and that's the reason he must begin the end, so to speak.

Harry dwelt into a side street and ended up in an abandoned, dead end alley. He had finally got a picture of what the kitchen should have looked like from the photo. No one was around so Harry closed his eyes and thought again how the place looked, not thinking that it might not look the same anymore, since it burned down.

When the squeezing feeling finally stopped and Harry's feet found firm ground he couldn't open his eyes. The thought to see the place where his parents died scared him… Why did he come here? Because Dumbledore said so!

_Open your eyes, open your eyes, OPEN YOUR EYES!_

Harry finally opened his eyes.

The house was indeed in ruins, It was between some low hills with a little town just near. People were scarce and the town looked in ruins, most of it anyhow. From where he stood he could see quite a bit of the town and most of it desperately needed a new coat of paint. That was the least of the problems: some houses had holes in the roof, some had walls almost caving in. Harry could almost swear Voldemort had been there, that would at least explain the state the town was in.

Back to the reason Harry came there. Dumbledore said that this was where everything began, so where would he look first. The house or the _graveyard. _The house first Harry thought, he was already standing there and he didn't know if he really wanted to see his parents' graves right now. Not when it was almost dark. He wasn't afraid of ghosts, but meeting one in a dark graveyard would not be that good.

Harry walked around the walls still standing around the site the house once stood. The house looked to have had large comfortable rooms. He found what looked to be the living room, since it had a fireplace. Harry sat down and looked at the sunset. The sun shone bright red on the horizon, the sky also red , looking as if it was painted with blood. And still Harry sat with his back against the wall imagining how the house would have looked if it hadn't burnt down. Slowly Harry sank into sleep.

His dreams were all but peaceful. Flashes of photo's he had of his parents. The ruined house. An evil cackling laugh. And the sound that has been haunting him as far as he could remember: his mothers cry as she tried to protect him from Voldemort. All swirling, flashing, mixing into one disfigured nightmare.

Harry woke with a searing pain in his scar, not able to open his eyes, again. He heard footsteps breaking the deadly silence. Stopping a few paces away. A cold, hard voice saying in an undertone "I'll be watching your every move, boy!" Again the menacing evil laugh and suddenly nothing more expect the almost unbearing silence in which Harry slipped into the unconsciousness of sleep again.

_Who was that_? Harry wondered as he awoke the next morning, his scar still prickling. Harry looked around there was no sign that anyone just stood there. The stars were bright Harry marked, and the moon shone _red_ or was it just his imagination. As the sun would be up soon Harry started to walk down the overgrown path in search of some breakfast in the town. Halfway down the slope Harry stopped to look at the sunrise. It was beautiful. The golden glint of the first sunrays was magical chasing away the darkness to give way to a new day. Pinks and greys and blues and orange, a picture not even Picasso could try to replicate.

_Why have I never seen this before?_ He was up early almost every morning at the Dursley's, why not? Why not see it before?

_I never thought to look at it, always looking at the problem, never at the light that may shine behind it. Never looking at the good of the world, stuck in the evil._

That would change here, Voldemort would die and he would be the one to do it.. The darkness would give way to light. As night just gave away to day, and in the same it would mark the beginning of a new time, and Harry had a goal, the light would prevail.

* * *

Hi to anyone reading this, this is a repost of my old story that never had a plotline. I took what I had Written and changed it into an more acceptable oneshot. Thaks for reading. Tell me what you think please?

A


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